


O eggs, never fight with stones

by AnonEhouse



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Apocalypse, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Post Star One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 04:32:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10756779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/AnonEhouse
Summary: Blake can never die. That's a good thing, isn't it?





	O eggs, never fight with stones

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

 

Blake stood over Avon's body. He looked down and smiled, mirthlessly. "That's one thousand, five hundred and eighty two for me."

"Avon has you beat," Cally said, crouching behind a pile of Federation uniformed corpses. "His score is at..."

Blake frowned and shot Cally. "And eighty three." He looked around. Everyone else was dead and melting into protoplasm, thin stuff centered by a greenish yellow blob. His mind insisted on calling them broken eggs instead of corpses. He waded through the muck, not quite up to his armpits, but close enough for this kind of work.

The reclaimers came in to suck up the germinal fluid and siphon them back into the sorting vats to be revitalized and reimpressed.

As the survivor, Blake had earned the right to wait in the rest room until the next round. He eased his aching body into the vat and relaxed, wrinkling up his nose at the scent. They hadn't changed the nutritional bath, and he could tell that Avon had been the last one to use it. There wasn't any point in complaining. What with the war, times were hard, and convicted criminals who complained found themselves on the front lines, where death was permanent.

Sometimes, when he'd won the bout several times in a row and was sick of the killing, that seemed natural and he considered volunteering to serve his sentence once and for all, but then Blake's stubbornness rebelled against it. 

Humans were congenitally stubborn, apparently. Blake eased his head back in the fluid, and tried not to think of Avon's scent. He should be thinking of the next bout. Making plans. But he was so tired. It wasn't as if it would make any difference. 

This project was useless. All the scientists learned from this was that neither side could win. No matter how many they killed, how many planets they rendered sterile even beyond their own use, humans emerged from nowhere. They were possessed of a fighting spirit that caused them even to kill each other. It was madness. 

The Andomedans' divine purpose was to bring sanity to the Milky Way, but it was proving ridiculously difficult.

Sulking, Blake let himself slip into a more comfortable form, and extended a pseudopod to activate a monitor. Travis was half formed. It wouldn't be long before the rest were back in shape, too. Maybe this time he would ally with Travis and Lurena and something new would happen. He felt a little optimism. The war had been going on for a thousand years. Sooner or later they would capture humans to copy whose weaknesses would show how to end it.

Sooner or later.

The war couldn't go on forever, could it?

**Author's Note:**

> 'O eggs, never fight with stones' is a Chinese proverb. I think I spent more time looking for proverbs about eggs than in writing this fic. If you've ever seen the Blake's 7 Episode, 'Star One', I think you'll know why.
> 
> For the 'War without end' square in my Tic Tac Woe bingo card.


End file.
